


Frigid

by Colamiilk



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Blizzards, Goretober 2019, Hypothermia, I wanted to go further and have him patched up but :(, I was really at a loss of what to do today but y'know, Maybe after the event I'll come back idk, deep wounds, no promises, not enough time, solo fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 15:23:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20876411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colamiilk/pseuds/Colamiilk
Summary: Some sort of a fire kick started in him with that and he moved with a vengeance, he refused to die here, he didn’t want to just be lost and forgotten in the middle of nowhere. If he was going to die it was going to at least be in the comfort of the academy.---Goretober 2019! - Day 2: Accident





	Frigid

**Author's Note:**

> I did it, I managed to get this out and I still think its the 2nd in like... Hawaii or something. This still counts I swear it does.

Justin wasn’t used to losing. He was a Death Scythe, it was unbefitting of someone in his situation to lose. His job was to win quickly and definitely for Lord Death. There wasn’t supposed to be any question over whether he’d win or lose, any argument. He won. That was what he did, that was what he was trained to do. Losing wasn’t an option, losing was an unforgivable sin, the most heinous of crimes. 

One might call Justin a fatalist. That he found the worst case scenario inevitable every time he made any mistake. To him it was just being realistic though. He knew he was playing with fire and that any accident was explosive and should be expected to blow up in his face. Which it kind of already had. He was bleeding far more than he had since he was a small child, perhaps more than he ever had in all honesty. His fingers were burnt with the cold ice of the frozen mountains he had to retreat from, and he could barely see through his frosted eyelashes anymore. 

This was a mess. He kept trying to tell himself that he was honestly lucky to have gotten out at all, but it wasn’t really working. He still wasn’t completely out of it anyway, he had to find his bike in this stupid tundra of a hideout and the heavy blizzard wasn’t helping. When he finally got back they were going to have to defrost him before they could start yelling at him for screwing up so hard. He felt like he was going to freeze solid before he could even set foot inside the DWMA. He was fairly certain he was if he didn’t get a move on. 

Kicking his way through the snow he hissed under his breath when one of his legs fell through, down to his waist and into what he had to assume was a small creek. It was so unbelievably cold that his numb toes started to throb desperately, trying to kick start his heart into warming his foot back up before it turned black and cracked off like the frozen meat it was. Struggling to get his leg out from the hole it had made for itself he tumbled over, rolling onto his back and getting his coat covered in snow. His cross was frigid at this point and when it smacked into his face his made a pained noise of shock when it stuck to his skin. 

He had not been prepared for this at all, he did not get enough of a warning about just how cold this was going to be. There was a part of him that was seriously starting to wonder if he was going to make it out of this alive. He was pretty sure the only reason he hadn’t bled out yet was because his wound had frozen shut at some point. Even if he made it back would they be able to fix it? Would they be able to fix him? Would they be willing to fix him after he messed up so badly? 

Tearing up slightly he made a bitter whimper when his tears froze to his skin and the cross still firmly adhered to his cheek. He didn’t have time to be blubbering out here, he needed to get going and at the very least shut himself in his coffin. If he could get there he could probably manage to hide from the cold and trap his body heat, which would hopefully warm him up a little bit. Enough to make it home. 

First he had to get up though. He had to get up and rip his cross off his face and get moving before he froze to death. He was already at a disadvantage missing so much blood and honestly his body was starting to feel like it was burning horribly with the beginnings of hypothermia. This was starting to look hopeless, like there was no point in even trying. Still, he wasn’t going to give up. He wouldn’t be who he was now if he was weak willed. 

Wobbling on the delicate snowy ground he felt around for more pitfalls as he took each hesitant step forward. After this he was probably going to enjoy snowy weather far less than he had before. He was probably going to have nightmares about blizzards for the rest of his life. This was easily the closest he had gotten to death before. It was honestly pathetic. To be someone so powerful and yet be killed off by something as simple as weather. He couldn’t think of many deaths more shameful than this. If he had known he was going to die out here he would’ve rather died in the fight. A death like that would at least be respectable.

The first few steps were horrible, it seriously felt like his joints were freezing together and he was going to turn into an ice cube. If that did happen… how would they find him out here? Would they? Would they even try? 

Some sort of a fire kick started in him with that and he moved with a vengeance, he refused to die here, he didn’t want to just be lost and forgotten in the middle of nowhere. If he was going to die it was going to at least be in the comfort of the academy. Digging his feet into the snow he held himself strong against an annoyingly sharp gust of wind that whipped by his coat so hard it felt like it might of been torn off of him. His bike shouldn’t be all that further, he should be able to get out of here. 

Like a light from heaven he saw the smear of black through all the endless white and ran towards it with a strength he was surprised to see he still had. The seat was covered in snow but he didn’t bother to wipe it off before jumping on and thrusting his keys into the ignition. The headlights did almost nothing in the storm but he didn’t care, he peeled out the second the engine started, racing against his slowing heartbeat.

He was going to make it back. He was going to get heated back up until his wound melted and bled again so they could stitch him up, he was going to go through the pain of having his numb nerves woken back up and have the blistering cold that had chilled him to the bone realized the second they wrapped him in warm blankets. He was going to suffer but he was also going to live. This wasn’t going to kill him, he wouldn’t let it. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little bit late but I was honestly at a loss of what to do, it ended up being a cool (lol) experiment though! I've never done any kind of cold weather injuries/afflictions before and if I had more time I would've gone much much further. Of course maybe it was good to stop here though because I don't know if anyone would be interested in a thousand or so words about reheating a person lmao


End file.
